Abandoned
by PapayaK
Summary: Michael got his job back - or did he? Rated T for violence - torture.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Abandoned

Author: PapayaK

Category: Hurt-Comfort, whump

Spoilers: most of Season 2

Summary: Michael left. Or did he?

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just having fun.

A/N: This story is sort of AU. More like I just kinda borrowed the timeline for a bit. I picture this happening after Mike jumps out of Management's helicopter. (I was never quite clear on whether Sam and Fi saw him jump or not, but in this story, they didn't) Also, I needed a doctor so I put in an original character for a bit – I figure they probably do some jobs they don't tell us about… This is pretty dark, but don't worry, everyone is always okay at the end of my stories (unless I tell you ahead of time)

Here you go… Hope you enjoy!

oO0Oo  
Abandoned – Chapter 1  
oO0Oo

Fiona Glenanne was _not_ a cheerful person these days.

She was angry.

She was hurt-

Michael had left.

Again.

_Without_ saying goodbye.

It had been almost three months with no word and it still hurt.

The only good feeling she had from the day he'd abandoned her was killing Carla. _That _had been satisfying…  
(now there were days she felt like killing _him_!)

She had waited in the loft all that day, sitting by the phone – but there was no call.

The police scanner had a report of a strange man being washed up on the beach, but that was it: the only possible mention of Michael Westen and it had turned out to be nothing.

She hadn't heard anything from him since.

She just figured that helicopter had contained everything he wanted. He had gotten his heart's desire from 'management.'

And it wasn't her.

She had really thought that when it came down to it…

She wouldn't be tossed aside as 'second choice.'

Not again…

oO0Oo

Sam Axe drank. _Less_ than he used to. He still had all the lady friends he wanted, but work was becoming scarce.

He was just getting tired of it.

So little of what he did really _mattered_. It was still worthwhile stuff, sorta – but not nearly as fun as the stuff he did with Mikey.

But Mikey had his job back.

Apparently.

Sam was genuinely happy for him. Mike wasn't retirement material like he was. Mikey _should_ be off changing the world.

'Course, it would have been nice if he had said good-bye to Maddie and Nate – and Fi.

Fi.

She didn't talk to him anymore. She was angry. She did visit Maddie once in a while… For which Sam was grateful, but he figured it was just too painful for her. Spending time at Mikey's old house, hanging out with Mike's mom… It was too much: She loved him. And he was gone – for who knows how long.

Sam knew he'd be back – eventually – but he wasn't sure what Mikey would find when he returned.

He was pretty sure he wouldn't like it. But he was Michael Westen. He would deal with it.

oO0Oo

Madeline was having a poker game tonight. She was really looking forward to it.

She knew Sam and Fi were upset, but this was nothing new to her. This was Michael. She knew him, and he needed to do this. She didn't like it, but it was okay. Unless he missed her birthday… Her birthday was in less than a week and she had better get a card. Or a call. Something…

She had decided she would be fine with his absence until he missed her birthday. If he did that he would be in trouble…

oO0Oo

And then Sam got some new information.

It changed _everything_.

He had been working a case that involved some Russians – nothing as interesting as it used to be… this was just a financial thing, but…

It was Mikey. He was certain.

He had been doing some surveillance on his target. He figured Mike probably would come up with a brilliant plan to get a bug into the guy's office, but he had settled for having flowers delivered; Flowers that had a listening device cleverly concealed within the ribbon. Unfortunately, the flowers were relegated to the hallway. On the second day of listening to absolutely nothing, two of the 'hired guns' decided to have a conversation in the hall:

"You on tonight?"

"Yeah. Tonight and every night. My girl's gonna wonder what become of me."

"Well, what do you expect after you almost let the spy escape?"

"I didn't."

"C'mon – you left the ladder in the hole and you turned your back."

"Are you kidding? No one could move after what they did to him. There's no way he should have been able to climb a ladder. Not after more'n a couple months a' that!"

"Well, he did. So you are going to work nights until you forget what the sun looks like. Be glad that's all you got."

Sam sat frozen in his car, trying to process what he'd heard; all thoughts of the case forgotten: Russians. Torturing a spy. In Miami. Mike wasn't the only spy the Russians hated- but…

'more'n a couple months' – Mike had disappeared almost three months ago…

He had gotten such a sick feeling in his gut…

Mike wasn't off saving the world – he was suffering, maybe dying.

He hadn't abandoned them – As far as Sam was concerned- _they_ had abandoned _him_.

All of a sudden the job changed – his priority was finding out more about this spy…

He listened.

He learned…

He explained to the man that had hired him that he might not be able to deliver what had been requested.

And he called Fi.

oO0Oo

Fiona was on a date. Jimmy was a seasonal fisherman, and he was great fun. They had been seeing a lot of each other and he cheered her up immensely.

Sam, on the other hand, was someone who depressed her, so when her phone rang and she saw it was him there was no WAY she was going to answer it.

Not the first time he called – or the second – or the third. On the fourth call Jimmy asked her to just answer it and get rid of the guy.

So she picked up.

"Fi. Finally! Listen, I've got some news. Will you _please_ meet me?"

"I don't think so, Sam. I'm really very busy."

"Fi – It's Mike. I think he's in trouble. Actually I'm pretty sure he's in trouble."

Fiona paled - all thoughts of Jimmy forgotten, "Where?"

"Meet me at the loft."

"I'll be there."

As she stood, she turned to a perplexed Jimmy. As an afterthought, she simply said, "Sorry. Gotta go."

_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Abandoned

Author: PapayaK

Category: Hurt-Comfort, whump

Spoilers: most of Season 2

Summary: Michael left. Or did he?

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just having fun.  
Oh - and a BIG thank-you to "Tolazytologin" - who pointed out that I had spelled WESTEN wrong! I do know he's a spy and not a hotel chain! Sorry. The error has been corrected!

oO0Oo  
Abandoned – Chapter 2  
oO0Oo

"Three MONTHS?" Fiona paced the loft, "They've had him all this time? How could we…? Why didn't we…?" She was overcome with an incredible guilt, "_Why didn't __**I**__?"_ she whispered to herself.

"I know, Fi. Believe me; I've had the same thoughts. But we knew what Mike wanted, and we figured he got it. There was nothing to suggest otherwise. I've been over everything we knew a dozen times. There was _nothing.._." Sam was at the bar pouring over the information he had gathered over the last few hours. Seeing she was completely wrapped up in guilt and regret, he added somewhat impatiently, "Beating ourselves up about it is not going to get him safe."

"Are we _sure_ it's him?" Fiona paused her pacing and looked at Sam.

Sam sighed. "No. We're not." Then he looked up at her, "You want to take that chance? They've got _somebody_… You wanna just leave 'em there?" He really needed her to focus.

"No, of course not," She crossed to the bar, "What have you got?"

Relieved that she was beginning to focus on the task at hand, Sam rearranged some of the papers to give her a better view. "This is the house where the Russians are based." He said, pointing to a photo of a mansion. "But I don't think this is where they have him."

"Why not?"

"'Cause this is Mikey. There is nothing secure enough in that house to hold him. Not for three months."

Fi nodded. "What else have you got?"

"Well – I think it's gotta be here." He said pointing to a photo of a dilapidated old warehouse.

"And_ that's _secure?" Fi asked doubtfully.

"It is if you know about this little feature," He pulled out a blueprint of the building. "See this here?" he pointed to an odd square drawn in the center of one of the back rooms, "As near as I can figure, this is a sort of cellar. Apparently it was originally intended as some kind of cistern, but it was never put to use. It's just a hole in the ground. Its ceiling is the cement warehouse floor and the only entrance is a trap door in the middle of the ceiling. It's fourteen feet deep and there's no stairs or ladder at all."

"Sounds secure," Fi breathed, picturing Michael thrown into the pit and left there.

"That's where I'd put Mike if I had to keep him… and I didn't care much about conditions." Sam's mouth was set in a grim line.

Fi took a deep breath, "What's security like?"

"Don't know," Sam shook his head, "I only heard about this late last night. I was lucky to get this much already."

Fi nodded, "Okay, let's go check it out."

Sam grabbed his keys, "You read my mind, sister."

oO0Oo

Twenty-four hours later the two friends were back at the loft putting together explosives and loading weapons.

What they had learned had given them an even greater sense of urgency: There was definitely a spentznas team involved, and based at the warehouse. The pit had a dirt floor and no drainage, (which was probably why it had never been used as a cistern – anything left in there for any length of time would simply begin to rot). There was enough activity to convince them that someone was being held, and there was no sign that they let Mike out anymore – not for anything.

"I feel bad we haven't said anything to Madeline." Fi said as she cut through a block of C4.

"I know – but what would we tell her? We _might _have found Mike? He _might_ be in a world o' hurt -but don't worry 'cause it might not even be him…?'"

She grimaced, "I know. You're right. But if we bring Michael back here and she finds out we didn't tell her..."

"Hey – I'm going with the lesser of two evils here. _If_ this is Mike _and_ we actually succeed in getting him home. I'm pretty sure we're gonna have more to worry about than Maddie's temper."

Fi paused – trying to address the very thing she had been trying NOT to think about: Michael's condition. "What can we expect?"

Sam shrugged, not wanting to think about his buddy's treatment either. "Let's get him home first."

oO0Oo  
_tbc…  
_oO0Oo  
Thanks for reading! Please review if you have the time.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Abandoned

Author: PapayaK

Category: Hurt-Comfort, whump

Spoilers: most of Season 2

Summary: Michael left. Or did he?

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just having fun.

oO0Oo  
Abandoned – Chapter 3  
oO0Oo

The small warehouse was well fortified. There were six guards, all the windows were barred, and everything was well lit, even at 2am. Sam and Fi planned to provide a distraction that should get most, if not all of the guards to the front of the building. Then they would use a small shaped charge to 'quietly' blow a hole in the back wall of the room that held the cistern.

Fi had everything on timers so this all had to go exactly on schedule. The first explosion, a small one, just to get their attention and draw everyone to the front of the building- went off at 2:15. Two minutes later two larger ones went off right by the front doors. In the bushes across the street, they had placed a long string of tiny bombs. It would start at one end and set off a series of small explosions that would be no more than loud 'pops.' With any luck it would seem as if several intruders were firing at the warehouse from across the street, and it should last another five minutes. That gave them nearly ten minutes to get in and get Michael. By the time the guards figured out there was no one attacking, they should be long gone.

Fi finished placing the shaped charge and stood back while Sam checked his watch. The first explosion went off, and they waited the two minutes and blew the shaped charge at exactly 2:17. The explosions went off simultaneously, and they were moving. Fi entered the room first and took down the lone guard that remained standing over the trap door.

Sam didn't even pause but moved straight to the hatch, jammed a pry-bar under the lock and yanked it off.

They hadn't brought a ladder, as the men had one there. Sam took it from Fi who had gone to retrieve it and slid it down into the darkness of the pit.

She reached past him and shone the flashlight down and around.

"There!" Sam redirected her back to what looked like a pile of old clothes.

She gasped, but kept the light on the man as Sam slid down the ladder. Sam also gasped, not because of what he saw, but because of the stench that hit him.

Sam wished he had time to pause – to check if it was safe to move him. But he didn't even take time to see if it was Mike or not. Didn't look to see if he were breathing or not. He just pulled him over one shoulder as gently as possible, and headed back up the ladder.

Fi covered their exit and they hurried to the car. They peeled out of there before the last explosion had blown.

oO0Oo

"Fi, is it him?" Sam was driving warily, Fi and their rescue in the back seat. She didn't answer. "FI!"

"Yes." She whispered.

Sam could hear her crying, and he swore. "Is he…?"

"He's alive, but…" She sniffed.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. As long as he was still breathing, Michael Westen would come back.

"We'll get him home. He'll be okay."

oO0Oo  
tbc…  
oO0Oo


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Abandoned

Author: PapayaK

Category: Hurt-Comfort, whump

Spoilers: most of Season 2

Summary: Michael left. Or did he?

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just having fun.

oO0Oo  
Abandoned – Chapter 4  
oO0Oo

Sam carried Michael up the stairs and into the loft. He knew now what had troubled him in the warehouse – what he hadn't had time to think about: his buddy was too light. Michael Westen was fit and strong – the man he carried was emaciated.

He laid his friend gently on the bed.

"Call Hernandez," He told Fi as he began a preliminary exam, "Hey, Mikey, Hey Buddy, wake up for me now…"

Michael's eyes opened a bit, focused on Sam, and oddly, he smiled a bit.

"Yeah - I'm happy to see you, too, Brother." His friend was in bad shape. "Fi," he called her attention to the needle marks in both arms. Mike had been drugged repeatedly. Fi cringed at the sight. There were many troubling signs of the treatment he had received, but Sam didn't find anything that was immediately life threatening.

"Fi, help me get him cleaned up."

Half an hour later, Mike was free of most of the mud and filth that had covered the floor of his cell. During the process, their patient had been in and out of consciousness. When he was aware enough to react to his surroundings, he seemed strangely calm – not at all what one would expect given the situation. Sam and Fi both noted it, but neither one addressed his mood since they were just glad to have him home and in one piece, more or less. They helped him back to bed, where he fell unconscious once again. Sam covered his friend with a light blanket and waited for the doctor.

oO0Oo

After examining and treating Michael, Hernandez turned from the side of the bed and came over to report to two very impatient people.

"You're _sure_ we can't take him to a hospital?" He had his answer when he looked at their faces, "He should have some x-rays, a scan… my biggest concern is that there's something I _can't_ see…"  
Both gazes remained steady so he sighed and continued, "He is suffering from pretty severe malnutrition and dehydration. I have an IV in… You know how to change those?" At Sam's slight nod he continued, "I will make sure you have a supply as long as he needs it.  
I'd guess they quit working him over about a month ago, give or take a few days. He has several healed and half-healed injuries that were (of course) never treated. Most show some level of infection. It's a miracle we aren't dealing with some level of sepsis.  
I've taken care of what I could. Stitched up a few – bandaged the rest…  
There's at least one – the burn near his right shoulder-" he pointed, "that is badly infected, I cleaned it up, and there are antibiotics in the IV that should help with that. But you'll have to monitor it closely. I'll leave dressings as that will need to be changed regularly and I'll bring more when I come back.  
The arm will be a problem. His left arm was broken but never set. I have splinted it for support, for now, but he will have to have surgery on that if it's ever going to work right. It's more than I can take care of here. You understand?"

Again they nodded.

"As for the needle tracks, none of them look fresh. It's my guess that whatever they gave him, they gave him a lot of it, but they quit a while ago. I took a sample of blood that I will have tested… discreetly – don't worry. I'd guess he probably went through any withdrawal a couple weeks ago, but you'll want to watch for symptoms just in case.  
Overall I have to say he is in a lot better shape than I expected given what you told me. It's a good thing he was so fit to begin with. This could have been a lot worse." He shook his head. "Anyway – keep a close eye on him. Like I said, there could be more wrong than we can see. And get him to eat. It won't be easy at first to get back to a normal diet – just…" He thought better of leaving a list of dietary needs, "You'll figure it out. For now, let him sleep. He'll sleep a lot. And he'll be very weak for a while. Make sure he doesn't try to do too much. Just walking to the bathroom is going to be like climbing a mountain for quite a while." He put the last supplies into his bag and turned to leave.

Sam stood and moved to shake his hand, "Thanks – we appreciate it."

Hernandez scoffed, "What you three did for my family? This doesn't begin to square us." He moved to the door, "Call me if you need _anything_."

He paused and turned back, "Oh, one more thing… You gotta realize there might-" he corrected himself "There _are_ going to be some psychological issues here… That's outside my domain..." He saw their determined looks, knew Michael Westen was in good hands, nodded to himself and left.

Once the door closed behind him, Sam got ready to leave. Fi moved to the bedside.

"I'm gonna pick up some supplies, and take a drive around the warehouse – see what's going on there." He waggled his phone at her before dropping it in his pocket, "Call me if anything changes."

Fi nodded and watched him leave.

Then she turned and sat on the bed next to Michael. Reached up to stroke the side of his bruised face, "I'm sorry, Michael. - I'm so, so sorry. - We should have known. - We should have…"

Through her tears, she didn't realize that he was awake.

"Fi… Fi… so I lost some weight… What's the big deal?" His voice was so soft, she almost missed it.

"Michael," She took his hand and held it to her face.

His fingers stroked her cheek and he smiled gently, "You couldn't know. I left under my own power – nobody forced me into that chopper - how could you know? They caught me on the beach – after I jumped…. You couldn't have known that."

He paused to catch his breath, "_I'm_ sorry I couldn't get back to you. - I tried… - I got out three times." He paused again. Talking was so tiring, "Never made it all the way. And then they made sure I couldn't..." He didn't elaborate.

Fi shook her head, "No. I should have trusted you. I should have-"

"Fi." He interrupted her impatiently, "Let it go. Just leave it alone this time? Just let us be together."

"This time?" she whispered to herself and frowned. What did he mean, 'this time?'

Michael was looking around, "The loft. I like the loft, but I liked Cabo better…" He looked at her suggestively.

All of a sudden, Fi had a bad feeling. Michael wasn't quite making sense.

"Michael?" She asked warily, "What do you mean by 'this time?'"

Michael smiled at her, weakly, "Usually it's the loft, or a Miami hotel- remember? But _last_ time we were in Cabo. And the time before that _I finally_ got to take you to Morocco." He continued mostly to himself, looking into the distance, "I always wanted to take you to Morocco..." he smiled at his memories before continuing, "I was kind of hoping to wake up in Fiji next."

"Michael," Fi was getting more and more concerned at the direction this conversation was taking, "what are you talking about? We've never been to Morocco."

Mike sighed and looked back at her, he seemed disappointed, "We've been _over_ this – Why won't you… It's a dream, Fi; A wonderful dream. Just let it be. Please?"

"You think you're dreaming?" Hernandez had said there would be psychological issues – Fi just hadn't thought it would be like this: a denial of reality…

"I know I am. It's okay – I like it."

"Michael-"

"Fi." He interrupted, "I've been in this hole for weeks. And let's face it – I'm not getting out- not this time. These dreams are my only escape. Just let it be- _please_" he whispered. There was just enough pleading in his voice to break her heart.

He believed he was going to die, forgotten, in that pit. She couldn't stand it!

"You weren't conscious when we-" she breathed, "Sam and I came and got you out! You're safe! This is real," she cupped his face in her hands.

"Fi. Don't." He turned away, his voice was a bit more firm – less pleading.

"But Michael-"

His smile faded, "Don't. Please don't. Don't make me-"

"Michael, I-"

"-remember."

Fi stared at him.

"Please don't make me. Let me remember you like this…" His voice had returned to a weak whisper. He touched her face gently.

"Michael-" She started to argue further, but she stopped when his hand dropped away and she saw his features go hard. She recognized that look. She knew Michael could be a hard man when he was angry, or desperate, or terribly upset… It always frightened her just a little bit. In good times, it excited her. Now it was just scary. Scary because she didn't know if he was angry at her, or upset about whatever it was he was trying not to remember.

She spoke more gently, warily, "Michael, you're home. Why won't you believe me?"

If anything his jaw tightened further, his eyes reddened. She realized he was fighting tears.

"This… You… _**can't**_ be real."

"Why not?" She probed.

"I… I watched you die..." He choked on the last word, swallowed. He sounded resigned.

He had lost the battle of trying _not _to see his memories.

He spoke so softly, she barely heard him. His eyes filled with tears, "They hurt you… Then they left… they left us there… you… you… died."  
He looked up into her eyes intently, "I'm so sorry.  
I couldn't… I was tied to the chair… I couldn't even touch you…" He swallowed, "I couldn't…" closed his eyes, turned his face away. "I saw you stop breathing. I knew you were dead when you stopped bleeding. They didn't come back until morning...  
I'm sorry.  
It's all my fault," He whispered, "I put all of you in danger."

She was suddenly breathless. Who were these monsters? How did they make him believe? As terrible as his physical treatment had been – the psychological was worse!

She tried to argue, but he would no longer respond to her. She stood and strode out onto the balcony, trying to get her anger under control.

She was still there when Sam returned.

Sam, oblivious to the situation, quietly crossed to the balcony after setting the groceries on the bar. "The warehouse is deserted. I think they-" Her tension registered, "Fi?"

She turned to him, "I upset Michael."

"Fi!" he scolded. "You can't-"

She turned on him, interrupting, "He thinks this is a dream," she said gesturing at the loft, "He won't believe I'm real… He believes he's still in that pit and he's going to die there," she paused to swallow, "Apparently… he watched me die." Her voice faded to a whisper on the last word.

Both were quiet as they considered the implications.

"How can that be, Sam? How can they…?"

Sam shook his head sadly. Fi was sometimes Michael's connection to life and light – the only thing that kept him from going darkside. He didn't know if either of them even realized it.

These monsters had taken her from him and made him watch while they did it.

Sam did not say what he was thinking: 'Could a man come back from something like that? He didn't think _he_ could, but he wasn't Michael Westen.' Then he realized Fi had asked him a question.

"It's possible… Take someone with the same body type and hair – mess up their face, or put on some kind of mask – gag them – Especially if he was drugged at the time – he'd believe."

Fi was speechless.

Sam continued, once again choosing actions over reflection, "I'll make a call to some of my buddies in the police – they would have had to dump the body… It might help to have proof when we try to convince Mikey he's really here."

oO0Oo

When Sam returned, hours later, Mike was asleep and Fi was again leaning on the balcony rail, staring at nothing. He grabbed a beer and joined her. "Got some crime scene photos."

She didn't respond.

"More than one crime scene."

At that, she did turn and look at him questioningly.

"There was a young, illegal, Cuban girl – your size – your hair. No family that we can tell. Found her body in the everglades.  
And that's not all…" he sighed deeply, "they also discovered the body of a 50 year old divorced guy – homeless drunk. But I'll let you guess his body type…"

Her eyes widened.

"Yeah. You _and _me, sister. They forced Mikey to watch as they tortured and killed both of 'us,'" wagging his finger back and forth between them. He said the words harshly. Knew she didn't like to hear it, but they had to face this thing head on if they were going to help Mike.

She turned back to stare across the water, so he tightened his grip on his beer and strode over to the bed, grabbing the photos on the way.

"Hey, Buddy." He spoke loud enough to wake his friend. Mike opened his eyes and smiled again. Now Sam knew what the smile was for. He braced himself, he didn't want to hurt Mike, but he had to.

He sat, "This isn't a dream anymore, Mikey. Fi's right. You're safe."

Fiona turned from the balcony to watch. She acted annoyed with Sam often, but she knew he was a good man – one of the best. She saw it again now as he leaned in toward their injured friend, speaking earnestly and as kindly as possible. She saw Michael turn away again, but Sam wouldn't let him, pulling out the crime scene photos, explaining and coaxing him to look and believe.

She hated this: Michael being turned inside out and having to watch while it happened. But she hated the Russians more.

She saw Michael reach out and grab Sam's arm, gripping it tightly. The older man put his own hand over Mike's and patted it. Sam looked over at her and nodded. She joined him, sitting on the other side of the bed.

She hated seeing the tears that streaked Michael's cheeks – this wasn't him! This was so unlike the man she loved it broke her heart.

"Fi?" he whispered to her.

She crawled into bed next to him and held him as he clung to her.

Sam rose and strode to the balcony giving them some privacy.

Two beers later Fi joined him. "He's asleep again."

Sam nodded, "Sorry about that, but he'll come back now."

Fi nodded her agreement. They were quiet for a bit.

"It wasn't just us." She shared with Sam what Michael had admitted before he drifted off, "He told me they showed him pictures of Madeline's house, burned."

Sam closed his eyes.

"Then they showed him photos of Madeline and Nate's gravestones."

Sam swore. "They took everyone from him. Everyone he cared about. And made him believe it was all him- his fault for putting us in danger." He paused, "Does he believe the photos were faked?"

"I think so, but I also think it's time we called Madeline."

Sam nodded, but looked out at the starry sky, "It's late. We'll call her first thing in the morning. I'll take the couch."

"Sam…" She asked as he turned away, "What did they want from him? What does he know that would require this kind of persuasion? What does he know that he would let them kill us for?"

Sam just looked at her, "Mikey's got a head full of secrets, Fi. You should know that by now." He shook his head, "Whatever it was – Either he really didn't know – which I doubt- or telling would have cost a lot of lives_, a lot_ of lives. It had to be worth more than just the five of us."

Sam turned and headed up the stairs for a few hours of sleep. As he left, the conversation she'd had with Michael on Victor's boat came to Fiona's mind:

"_Who knew you could feel this bad for a psychopath on the edge of sanity?" she had asked him.  
"People don't get there on their own, Fi. Being under Carla's thumb- it's a strain."  
"Well, you've done all right."  
"I never lost everyone I cared about…"_

They had made Michael believe he had lost everyone he cared about.

oO0Oo  
tbc…  
oO0Oo


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Abandoned

Author: PapayaK

Category: Hurt-Comfort, whump

Spoilers: most of Season 2

Summary: Michael left. Or did he?

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just having fun.

oO0Oo  
Abandoned – Chapter 5  
oO0Oo

In the morning, when Sam came downstairs, Mike was sound asleep and Fi was at the bar eating a yogurt. "Rough night?"

Fi nodded, "Apparently, when he slept there, he dreamed he was here. When he sleeps here…"

Sam nodded grimly, "He dreams he's back in that pit."

"I'm going to kill them."

"Get in line, sister."

"We were up for a while, so I did get him to eat some of those crackers you brought."

"Hey – that's good."

"He wanted yogurt," She smiled a little, "But I was worried that dairy might not be the best choice right away."

"Good thinking." Sam poured himself a cup of coffee, "You wanna flip a coin for who goes to get Maddie?"

Fi answered, "You go, Sam. I don't want to leave."

Sam nodded approvingly, "If he wakes up, tell him his mom's on the way."

oO0Oo

Maddie was sitting at her table having a celebratory cigarette. It was her birthday! She loved birthdays. She smiled to herself, trying to be confident that she would hear from Michael today. A present from Nate sat on the counter, waiting for her to open it later. She hoped maybe she could coax Sam and Fi to come over for supper. She really missed the days when those two dropped in on a regular basis.

When the doorbell rang, she got up to answer it, "Now who could that be?" she asked herself.

She opened the door to a very serious looking Sam, "Hey, stranger! I was going to call you later. See if you and Fi wanted to come help me celebrate my birthday tonight." She gave him her biggest smile.

Sam paused, distracted for the moment, "It's your birthday? Wow. That came up fast."

She looked at him quizzically, and answered dryly, "Not really, Sam. Happens at the same time every year."

Sam shook off the implications of all that, "Maddie, sit down, we need to talk."

Suddenly Maddie didn't feel so good. Her smile disappeared and she sat. "Is it Fiona?"

Sam sat on the arm of the couch across from her, "No, Maddie. It's Michael."

She swallowed hard, in her son's line of work she always knew this day would come. But not now – not on her birthday.

Seeing her reaction, Sam backpedaled, "Wait, Maddie, no. He's okay... well, sorta."

She started to breathe again, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you know how we all kinda figured he was back at work?"

She nodded warily.

"He wasn't. He was captured by some pretty nasty people. They've had him all this time."

She stared at him, "Then you go get him!"

"We did, Maddie, Fi and I got him back. He's at the loft, but he's not in the best health."

She stood, already gathering her things to leave, "Should he be in a hospital?"

"No, he'll be okay…"

"Sam! Quit beating around the bush. This is my son and it won't be the first time I've taken care of him when he's been hurt." She glared at him.

Sam sighed, "They beat him up pretty good and then they dumped him in a hole for a couple of months. He had very little to eat or drink. So he's weak – but he'll be okay."

"Okay. Let's go." She stood impatiently by the door.

"Maddie, there's one more thing you gotta know."

She gestured at him – "Well?"

He cringed, but explained, "They managed to convince him that we're all dead: You and Nate, me and Fi. They were pretty tough on him. And the trick is –he's still not completely sure of what's real."

At that news, Madeline's careful control almost cracked. "They took away his family?" She nearly whimpered. But her mother's heart rallied. "Then the sooner I get over there, the better."

oO0Oo

Michael had woken and stayed awake for a little longer while Sam was gone. He ate and drank; Fi even let him have a little yogurt which seemed to agree with him. She helped him get cleaned up and presentable. He was doing well- she stayed near him when he walked, since he had a tendency to get lightheaded, but he was already getting better- stronger.

He was back in bed when the door opened but he sat up to see who it was,

"Mom."

There was so much emotion in that single word, no one present could help but be affected by it.

Maddie crossed the room to him and sat on the bed. She hugged him, rocking gently, and he let her.

It was almost as if he were a little boy again, coming to his mom with a skinned knee or a broken heart.

"Well," she said, her voice matter of fact, but her eyes filled with tears, "We're just going to have to fatten you up!" She smiled kindly at him.

oO0Oo

With Maddie at the loft, Sam and Fi were freed up to do a little more fact finding. The fact that Mike had been just dumped in a hole was troubling: If they still wanted something from him, why weren't they still asking? And if they didn't, why was he still alive?

Would the Russians come looking for him? Did they need to move him somewhere else? Somewhere safer?

Why had they wanted him in the first place?

Too many questions and not enough answers. Time to get to work.

oO0Oo

"We need to talk to one of them."

Fi raised her eyebrows at that, "Weren't you surveilling them for a week before this happened?"

"Yes I _was_. About a _financial_ thing. And that's why I know exactly who we should talk to. Anya Terasov, She's a 60-something, over-the-hill spy. Probably killed men with her thighs back in the day, but now she's just a side-kick set on a shelf. She'll be happy to tell me how great she is. "

"And how's your Russian?"

"Okay – so Mikey's the one who's good with languages, but I don't need to speak the Russian when I'm so good with another language..." He winked at her.

"Sam, I don't think this is a good idea. They know what you look like – they found your body-double."

"Yeah- but they were just looking for a body type. I doubt they spent much time on faces. And 50 year old drunks are a dime a dozen in Miami. There's no way they're going to connect Chuck Finley with Mike's pal, Sam, and I'm just going to flatter a lady… I'm actually very good at it."

Fi looked at him doubtfully.

"I'll be so charismatic, it'll never occur to her."

"hmm… Think that'll work?"

"You've never been on the receiving end of my charm!"

"Thank goodness."

oO0Oo

Sam decided to take the direct approach and watched her apartment until she came home. Then he went up and rang the bell.

When the woman came to the door, he introduced himself as Chuck Finley. They talked for a bit. He suggested he was a retired spy who still had certain sources of information, but not too much loyalty anymore- just a lot of bitterness towards his old company.

She was understandably suspicious, but he showed her he was unarmed, and told her he just couldn't believe someone had captured Michael Westin AND hung onto him for more than a few days. He laid on the flattery so thick, and implied that she had done this pretty much single-handed. It was the perfect mix and she invited him in.

He didn't mind at all that she would probably be killed when her employers found out she had talked to him.

"Michael Vestin! They say he is so evil – like the boogeyman. But we capture him and he sits there and doesn't talk. He just sits... He _is_ tough." She admitted begrudgingly, "We beat him, he doesn't talk, we burn him, he screams, but he doesn't talk. We use many tools. He knows to keep his mouth shut." She nodded in admiration of a worthy adversary. "But then!" Her eyes lit up with the brilliance of their torture.

Sam swallowed, trying to keep his lunch down.

"_Then_ I bring in a girl that looks _just_ like his little girlfriend. And we kill her in front of him; slowly. 'just tell us and she will live' we say. He sits. He doesn't talk. He _cries-"_ she was clearly disdainful, "He talks to _her_ – _begging_ forgiveness, but he doesn't talk to us." She was beginning to get angry, so Sam laid on more flattery.

Besides, he really didn't want her to start telling him about the drunken divorcee.

"But you kept him! He never escaped!"

"He did. Three times he escaped. Idiots! Once they leave the ladder _in the hole! IDIOTS!_ Once they leave the hatch unlocked. Once they take him out for food and bathroom. Never again!"

Sam knew he really had her eating out of his hand, "You kept him so long. NO ONE keeps Westin that long." He said his voice full of admiration.

"Ha!" She laughed cruelly. "He was worthless! Soft!"

Sam frowned, "What do you mean?"

"We kill his girlfriend, then his friend. We tell him his family is dead – show him pictures. He _really_ stops talking. Doesn't cry anymore. Does not move. Does not react to anything. Just stares. I fire my gun _next to his_ _ear._ He doesn't twitch. He is weak – losing his people breaks him. Michael Westin – ha!" She spit on the floor.

"My – associate – he thinks we give him too many drugs. So we stop." She chuckled, "THEN he twitches! But even after the withdrawal... We burn him again, but there is not even a reaction. It was like he wanted the pain. He doesn't speak. His mind is empty. He is weak. We try for another week, but finally we give up – his mind is broken. We look for a different source."

Sam's ears perked up at that, "And what were you looking for again?"

Her suspicions immediately returned, "THAT I do not tell you."

Sam backpedaled, "Hey! Whatever – So why'd you bother keeping him alive after that?"

She scowled, "He is worth money. My associate was stupid enough to try to sell him. Many people want Michael Westin. They do not know he is worthless."

"But only you could capture him!" Sam again forced admiration into his voice.

She shrugged, "Now he is gone. Someone came and took him so we won't get paid. I would have preferred the satisfaction of killing him!"

Sam continued as long as he could, but the well was dry. He hadn't learned the main thing he had come to find out, but at least he knew they wouldn't come looking. They thought Mike was out of the country.

He strode out of her home as if he was happy with everything she had told him and even more impressed with her.

As soon as he was out of sight he found the nearest garbage can and lost his lunch.

He never saw them coming.

oO0Oo  
tbc…  
oO0Oo

Thanks for reading! And please review if you have time. -Papaya


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Abandoned

Author: PapayaK

Category: Hurt-Comfort, whump

Spoilers: most of Season 2

Summary: Michael left. Or did he?

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just having fun.

oO0Oo  
Abandoned – Chapter 6  
oO0Oo

While everyone thought Sam was making new friends, Fi returned to the loft.

She came in quietly in case Michael was sleeping and saw Maddie just covering him up. She smiled and came over to Fi.

"He just fell asleep again. We had a very nice visit. Nicest one we've had in years." But she had lost her smile.

"Maddie, what's wrong?" Fi asked.

"That's not Michael." She stabbed her cigarette in his direction.

"What do you mean?"

"He hasn't talked like that since he was ten. And while it was nice… I'd rather have our Michael. You know he's started biting his nails?"

Fi decided not to tell her the real reason Michael's fingernails were so short.

"He didn't even know _it was my birthday!_ And why did he say he hadn't seen me in so long? Three months isn't that long. He's left for years and thought nothing of it."

Fi sighed. They hadn't convinced him after all. "He thinks he's dreaming."

"What do you mean? How could this be a dream?"

"While they had him locked up, whenever he slept, he would dream about being here, with us. He doesn't believe he's been rescued… And when he sleeps here-" She swallowed the lump in her throat, "He dreams he's back there."

Maddie took a deep breath, "Well. He's been through a lot. But it's not the first time, and I doubt it will be the last." She pointed a finger at Fi, "_You __**make**_ him believe."

She grabbed her purse and keys in frustration and headed to the door, "I'm out of cigarettes." And she left.

Fi frowned to herself. Why had he said he believed her? It was a little annoying.

It was more than a little annoying, it was frustrating. Fiona didn't like feeling frustrated.

She crossed to the bed and plopped down next to him, "Michael… Michael!" She woke him none to gently, shoving him with her foot, "Do you believe this is real or not?"

He looked at her seriously, but then he smiled that smile that was really starting to get on her nerves, "Fi…" he said placatingly, "It's okay-"

"Michael, you saw the pictures…"

"Fi." He shook his head, explaining patiently, "You've tried to convince me many times before. You've _rescued_ me before. Once I dreamt you and Sam were _killed_ trying to rescue me! I've dreamt every possible situation. There is simply NO way this is real. You _can't _come get me – You DON'T KNOW I'M HERE! Nobody knows I'm here! There is no-"

She'd had enough of this - she slapped him.

oO0Oo

Every nerve in Michael's body suddenly tensed as if he had been touched with a live wire. He stared at her. Hard.

She had slapped him.

In all his weeks of dreaming, Fiona had never once slapped him and in that one instant:

He 'woke up.'

For the first time in months he was truly awake.

She had convinced him.

She convinced him she was real.

_This_ was his Fiona. Not the sweet girl in his dreams – sure, she _could be_ sweet, and she often was when they were having a good time, but she was far too passionate to stay that way for long. It was one of the reasons he loved her so deeply.

He breathed.

Really breathed – air he believed was real - for the first time in weeks - and he smiled at her – a very different smile than she had seen since they brought her home.

She was alive.

"You slapped me." He said, realizing how idiotic it sounded.

"I'll do it again if you won't believe me!"

He considered the offer, "do it."

She was surprised, but suspected they were making some kind of weird progress, so she did; although not quite as hard.

He closed his eyes, still smiling, "Never. You never did that in my dreams. Why do I love a girl who likes to hit me?"

He opened his eyes and really looked around at the loft for the first time.

He was free.

He was free.

She was alive – really alive. They hadn't done anything to her. He reached out to her and tenderly touched all the places she should have had injuries.

She sat still and let him.

She _was_ alive. She was whole. She was his Fiona.

"Sam?"

She nodded eagerly, "And your mom, and Nate. They faked it all, Michael. And drugged you so you'd believe it. – You are here. Now. You are safe."

Suddenly energized, he threw back the covers and got out of bed – silly to be hanging out there so much, really. He wanted to _do something_. He looked at Fi…

Oddly he wanted to go for a run – about five miles just might be enough to feel free. But he was pretty sure crossing the room was about all he was capable of at the moment, so he pulled out his IV, strode over to the fridge and grabbed a yogurt. He pulled the top, grabbed a spoon and looked back at Fi.

She was watching him.

She stood and crossed the room to him.

He studied her. Her movements were smooth and strong- not like the version of his dream where she had survived the torture – barely.

She had never looked so beautiful.

Blueberry yogurt had never tasted so good.

She leaned across the bar towards him, not quite sure what to make of this change.

He swallowed, and leaned in towards her, too.

"Thank-you." He said simply, but he meant it with all that he was.

She knew it, and smiled. "I should slap you more often."

Suddenly, he was light headed, and would have fallen, but Fi was there with her arms around him in an instant, "Whoa, there. Just because you finally got your head on straight, doesn't mean it's going to cooperate. Sit down. Before you fall down."

She helped him to his green chair.

"I'm fine."

She handed him his yogurt, "No, you're not. You're too skinny."

He smiled at her. "Where is everybody?"

"Well, Nate's in Vegas as far as I know. Your mom went for cigarettes, and Sam is on a little fact finding tour."

At that last bit, Michael perked up, "What's he after?"

"Information on your captors. He was going to meet with some woman – Anya Tera-something-"

"Anya Terasov?" Mike suddenly turned even paler and nearly dropped his yogurt, "Fi! She's the worst one!" He stood, wobbled a moment, but went to get his gun, "She's the leader of the team! She'll-"

"No," she protested against the sick feeling she suddenly had, "She's just a washed out spy…"

"And she is VERY good at making people believe that! I know her. She's the one who-" He swallowed the rest of his words, not wanting to say what was on the tip of his tongue. "Where?" He demanded instead.

Fi was already on her feet getting the keys to the charger.

oO0Oo  
tbc…  
oO0Oo

Thank-you so much for all the reviews! They make such a difference.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Abandoned

Author: PapayaK

Category: Hurt-Comfort, whump

Spoilers: most of Season 2

Summary: Michael left. Or did he?

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just having fun.

oO0Oo  
Abandoned – Chapter 7  
oO0Oo

In the car on the way to Terasov's home, Fi asked, "Who is this woman?"

"I knew her - years ago in Russia. That's how she knew I had the information they wanted. Sam's right, she doesn't look like much… but she is as evil and ruthless as they come.  
Apparently I tend to attract women who are a lot more fearsome than they appear." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, but she was thinking something else.

Fi proceeded with caution, "Michael, what _did_ they want?"

But Mike had no problem telling her, "I was sent to stop some covert weapons shipments that were coming out of Siberia. My mission was to destroy the building where the weapons were hidden. When I got there I learned that the weapons were the least of our problems. Anya and her team were preparing a large shipment of weapons-grade plutonium. They were selling off all the leftover plutonium from the soviet era. And they were selling it to all the worst possible customers. Insane despots that wouldn't hesitate to use it randomly against the free world." He paused as she negotiated a curve at high speed, "You can't just blow up a warehouse when it's full of plutonium… so I 'lost' it."

Fi raised her eyebrows, clearly impressed, "You hid a shipment of plutonium?"

Michael actually grinned at the memory, "Two containers- in a place where it should be safe for several years yet. The US government knows where it is, and is keeping an eye on it." He lost his smile, "I couldn't tell Terasov where it was."

Fi agreed emphatically, "No, you couldn't. Not for anything."

They pulled up in front of Terasov's rental house. Michael gestured for Fi to go around the back, and then tried the door. It wasn't locked. He was torn between hope that Sam would still be there, and fear that he would no longer be in one piece.

The house was empty except for a tape recorder sitting in the middle of the table in the front room.

Fi joined him having searched the rest of the house.

Their eyes met across the table as Mike picked up the recorder and pressed play.

The first voice they heard was Terasov's, "So, Vestin – you were not stolen from us as I thought. Your friends actually rescued you." She chuckled, "I thought that meant they were smart, but your friend Axe is walking up to my door- not so smart. I will enjoy telling him about our time together. And then… You _already saw_ what I will do to him. And this time – _it will really be __**him**_– and there will be no rescue."

There followed a recording of Sam and Anya's conversation, which Mike switched off rather forcefully when she began describing his torture.

"Sam was investigating the Russians, right? Some financial thing?"

At Fi's nod he continued, "I need to see everything he's got."

He saw her pick up the recorder, "Fi…" he warned. He really didn't want her to hear what they had done to him.

She shrugged innocently and put the recorder in her bag. Mike grimaced – it would have to do for now, he didn't have time to deal with it.

They headed to the charger.

Before she started the car, Fi laid a hand on his arm, "Has it occurred to you that they only took Sam to get you back?"

Michael didn't answer. Of course he had – and it didn't matter in the least.

oO0Oo  
tbc…  
oO0Oo

Sorry that was a short one. The next one is much longer.


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Abandoned

Author: PapayaK

Category: Hurt-Comfort, whump

Spoilers: most of Season 2

Summary: Michael left. Or did he?

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just having fun.

oO0Oo  
Abandoned – Chapter 8  
oO0Oo

Michael spent a quick but thorough thirty minutes going through Sam's intel, there was only one location in Miami to which they would take Sam: the warehouse.

He turned to tell Fi they needed to do some recon, only to see her sitting across the room, the recorder in her hands. She looked at him wide-eyed.

"Fi-" He tried to stop her before she started. He did not need or want her pity – and that was the only thing this could lead to.

"You were catatonic?"

He _really_ needed to get her past this quickly – they needed to be focusing on Sam! He sighed, "It's sort of like going to your happy place – only – you know – _more._"

She raised her eyebrows, "They train you for this?" She breathed, disbelieving.

"And it's a good thing they do, don't you think?" he asked, allowing her to believe the lie. Then he continued, "Now can we get back to finding Sam?"

oO0Oo

A quick investigation told them that not much had changed at the warehouse. Even the hole in the back wall had been bricked up.

After waiting until the sun was setting, Mike and Fi locked and loaded and headed for Sam; Fi praying that Michael could stay on his feet, both of them praying they weren't too late.

They both knew this wasn't a hostage negotiation: They wouldn't be offered 'proof of life.' Sam didn't need to be alive to draw them in. They would come anyway, and Terasov knew it.

They surveyed the area from the roof of the building next door. The same six guards were in place, and Fi could feel the tension in the man next to her. For a moment she considered what this must be like for him – returning to the same awful situation he had so recently escaped.

For Michael it was fairly straight-forward. He wasn't a civilian. He had received some training in how to handle this situation and, for that matter, it wasn't the first time he'd dealt with it. He knew it wouldn't be easy. But the warehouse itself held no terror for him. It was just a location.

At least that's what he was telling himself…

"Are you sure you want to go back in-"

"I'm fine, Fi. Let's get Sam."

Talking about it was only going to make it harder.

oO0Oo

They had discussed the plan on the way over, and Fi did not like it at all. Michael was going in first. He would take out the guards one by one while she covered him from the roof and then she would come in with the firepower as backup. She was angry that he still felt the need to be the hero.

"I still don't like this, Michael. You're not yourself. Maybe I should-"

"Fi." He interrupted her harshly, "_I don't like it either._ But while I'm pretty sure I can sneak up on someone and inject them, I am _not_ sure about the sniper rifle." He held out his hand, which was trembling badly, and glared at her for forcing the admission.

She didn't respond- just watched him go.

He had six syringes, a taser as back up, along with his usual weapons.

She just hoped his best weapon – his head – was sharp enough for the task.

She watched through the rifle's sight, ready to take down anyone he couldn't, as he snuck up on the first guard from behind. The man never heard a thing and he was down. She watched as Michael injected the second, and then the third guards easily.

The fourth guard, near the door, was alerted when the third man kicked a loose pipe as he fell. Fi didn't breathe as they fought. She knew Michael was nowhere near his usual strength. The fight took much longer than it would have normally.

Twice, she was sure he was down and nearly fired, once when the guard twisted his bad arm and again when he managed to slam Michael's head into the wall. But her man had anger and revenge on his side, and she soon saw the flash of the taser.

Then he was inside, and she made her way down from the roof in order to follow him in.

Just inside the door, out of Fiona's sight, Mike paused, bent over, one hand on his knee, his bad arm tight around his ribs.

The fight with the guard had done wonders for his cracked ribs and opened a couple wounds that had nearly healed. His head was pounding and he still saw stars. It was frustrating to be so weak – usually his own body was the one thing he could trust not to let him down, and now it was betraying him… badly.

But Sam was in the pit, and Mike wasn't going to let him stay there a moment longer than necessary.

He didn't have time to nurse his wounds, so he straightened painfully and moved silently to the end of the hallway. He used a small mirror to peek around the corner, and saw the two final guards standing at a door.

That meant Sam wasn't in the pit - Terasov had him in her 'work room' with at least one other member of her team. They were still questioning him. Mike took this news as a very good sign.

He heard a tiny noise behind him and looked to see Fi gently closing the door. He waved her in, and retreated silently to a point where they could whisper without being overheard.

"Are you alright?" Fi whispered, "I saw-"

"I'm fine," He cut her off, there was time for all that later, "There's two at the door. Terasov and at least one other will be inside with Sam. Use the gas to take out the guards."

Fi nodded and pulled out of her bag the gas canister and the small flash grenade they had brought as a decoy to draw out at least one of Sam's captors.

Michael laid a hand on her arm, "Remember, Terasov will not hesitate to kill when she realizes we're here. She doesn't want to face me – not now. Do not detonate until I am in position."

"I still don't like it."

Mike shook his head, slightly exasperated, "I don't like any of this, but Terasov _will_ kill us all- _unless_ we get the drop on her… I'll be fine." It was the only reassurance he could give her and it sounded hollow in his own ears.

In his current condition, he was no match for Terasov.

Suddenly the lights flickered, and Mike and Fi both knew what that meant.

Fi pulled the pin and silently rolled the canister down the hall behind the guard. They both pulled on masks, and Michael followed it, obscured by the gas that began to pour from the canister.

One guard let out a yell, before he dropped, and Mike looked back once at Fi, who tossed the grenade toward him. He grabbed the guard and used his body as a shield just as the door opened and Terasov's associate stepped out. The small explosion knocked the man back into the room, and Mike followed him, leading with his gun, and pulling off his mask.

Once inside, he faced the standoff he had fully expected: Terasov was crouched behind the chair to which a semi-conscious Sam was tied. Only her hand was visible as it held a knife to his friend's throat and one eye as she glared at him.

The 'associate,' whom Mike now recognized as Kudrin, was moaning on the floor, only moments from getting up.

Then Fi followed him in, cocked her rifle and aimed it at Kudrin, who quieted and held still, waiting for an opening.

Mike's eyes never left Terasov.

"Vestin! I was wondering how long it would take for you to get here. Your friend and I were just getting to know one another."

"You don't want him. You want me."

"You are correct," Terasov agreed, "But how can we do an exchange without killing each other?"

"Fi?"

"If he moves, he dies." Her eyes did not move from the man on the floor. Her gun did not waver from his forehead. She would not mind killing this man at all after what he had done to her two best friends.

Sam moaned and began to stir.

Michael spoke loudly, for he knew the former seal would respond to a command voice in his disoriented state, "Sam, Don't move!"

Terasov's hand had twitched as Sam woke and blood tricked from the small cut in his neck.

Michael's countenance went still and hard as he made eye contact with Terasov.

The next two seconds passed very slowly: Sam opened his bloodshot eyes and looked up at his buddy. He watched as the two spies locked gazes. They both knew exactly how this was going to go down: Terasov knew she had been beaten, and her only consolation would be to take Sam with her. Mike saw her realize this and pulled the trigger before she could act on it. The only warning Sam had was the slight tightening around his friend's eyes. He held perfectly still as the bullet sang past his ear and then twisted away from the knife as it fell from the dead hand.

Time resumed its normal passage as Fi took one step forward and brought the butt of the rifle down on Kudrin's head and he fell back unconscious. Mike dropped to his knees in front of Sam and began to cut his bindings. "I'm so sorry, Sam. S'my fault."

"Hey – everything worked out okay, didn't it?" he tried to chuckle but only coughed as Fi and Mike pulled him to his feet, wrapping his arms around their shoulders and helping him into the hall.

They paused when they realized Mike had stopped. He had a very odd expression on his face. Now that Sam was safe, he seemed to be seeing where he was for the first time.

Fi slid out from underneath Sam's arm, helping him lean on the wall, and reached into her bag. "I brought this. Just in case you might want it."

She held out to Michael, a block of C4 with a remote detonator attached. "We'll wait here."

Michael didn't answer; just looked at her intently. His hands shook slightly as he took it from her.

Without a word he turned and walked down the hall. He paused before opening the door to the room which held the pit, and then entered.

He closed the door behind him. Only his eyes moved as he surveyed the room where he had been held for so many weeks. Everything was terribly familiar and completely strange at the same time. Finally his gaze rested on the hatch.

He swallowed and walked towards it. Reaching down, he took a deep breath and pulled it open, cringing when he heard that horribly familiar creak; the creak that had occasionally meant food or water, but much more often signified that pain was coming again.

He tossed the explosive in, hearing it plop into the filth on the floor. His movements seemed nonchalant, he face expressionless. But inside he was seething.

He took a deep breath, turned, and put this room firmly in his past.

When he returned, Fi handed him the detonator. Then she jogged out to get the car. Mike pulled Sam's arm back over his shoulder and they resumed their journey.

Both men leaned heavily against the wall outside as Fi pulled up and got out to open the doors. Sam realized his friend was very pale. "Mikey? You okay?"

Truth was: the infected burn on his shoulder was exactly where Sam's arm had to go to get him out of there before the guards awoke or the cops that Fi had called arrived. Plus, now that it was almost over, the pure exhaustion was hitting him. He was in a great deal of pain. But he had already taken too much time planting the explosive. He could feel the blood dripping down his back, but he just chuckled and said, "Look who's talking."

"We are a sorry pair aren't we?"

The adrenaline was fading fast, and every muscle in his body trembled as he climbed into the car. He spoke over his shoulder to Sam who was trying to find a comfortable position in the back seat, "We need a hospital?" he asked as Fi pulled out into the road.

"Nope. She was just getting started when you showed up. I'll be fine."

"Good" he said with relief.

Fi pulled over to the curb a safe distance away.

Mike pressed the detonator and they all watched as the back half of the warehouse exploded in a fireball.

They could hear sirens approaching, so Fi pulled out and drove sedately away.

All three smiled quietly to themselves as they were passed by several police cars and rescue vehicles, headed the other way with lights on and sirens screaming.

"Kudrin's going to have a hard time explaining all this- assuming he survived that."

"And the best part is he can't mention Michael's name without implicating himself in international espionage. I just hope he's smart enough to realize it... "

"Whoo. That's for sure. He's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, right Mike?… Mike?"

Fi, who had been watching the road, didn't realize that he had passed out, "Sam?"

Sam forced himself forward, his own bruises protesting, to check on his friend, "I think maybe we better head to Hernandez' house." He couldn't tell much from the back seat, but he was worried that this rescue had just been too much.

oO0Oo  
tbc…  
oO0Oo

Just wanted to thank bnlove, VeeFall, FMSMandi, I luv ewansmile, bcmom, bova, storyfan101, EveryNicole, Jedi Skysinger, FicreaderT, Nicole, BurnedmichaelY, spawokiepoet, all those who chose to remain anonymous, and of course, TooLazyTooLogIn for all your wonderful words of encouragement. Thank-you! - Papaya


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Abandoned

Author: PapayaK

Category: Hurt-Comfort, whump

Spoilers: most of Season 2

Summary: Michael left. Or did he?

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Just having fun.

oO0Oo  
Abandoned – Chapter 9  
oO0Oo

They stopped at the Doctor's house, but with one look at his patient, he climbed into the back seat with Sam and directed Fi to his clinic, where Fi was banished to the waiting room.

Fifteen minutes later, Sam came out to join her.

She looked up at him questioningly.

"I'm fine, thanks. His PA put a few 'band-aids' on me… He's back with Mike now."

"His physicians' assistant was here?"

"Yeah- he called him in. Thought he might need some help with whatever Mike needs."

Sam sat down with a heavy sigh, "Never should've gone to Terasov's…"

"You couldn't know who she really was, and anyways. It's over now."

"We hope…"

Fi had no answer to that. All along, in the back of their minds, what Hernandez had originally said had stuck with them: What if there was something else wrong? People don't just pass out for no reason. Something was wrong with Michael.

An eternity later, the doctor came out to sit with them.

He nodded, "Westin is in bad shape. But I was able to at least get some x-rays. His cracked ribs are now broken, and he managed to get himself a concussion since I saw him last…" He was scolding them.

They started to protest, but he cut them off, holding up one hand, "I don't want to know. The _good _news is that's all it was. He passed out from a combination of the concussion and just general weakness. I mean**, seriously**! Has the man had a real meal yet?"

Fi especially, looked sheepish at that.

"You two need to take better care of him. Where's his mom? I bet _she_ can make him eat. If I remember correctly, she's the only person he's afraid of." He chuckled at the memory, "He's gonna be just fine in about a month or so. As long as he rests and keeps up on everything I told you before. The infection could still be a problem if you don't stay on top of it.  
You can take him home when you're ready. I need to clean up a bit and lock up, so you've got about half an hour."

He shook their hands and left.

Sam stood and looked at Fi, "So- what are the odds that we can keep Mikey out of trouble for a month?"

She walked past him, "Hernandez is right – let's take him to Madeline's."

Sam chuckled and followed her.

oO0Oo

The next time he woke, Michael found himself in his old room at home. He sighed. Even now, he would much rather be in his loft than at his mom's. If he would admit it, it was mostly because he really didn't feel up to soothing her distress at his condition.

But Maddie surprised him.

She came in quietly with a bowl of soup and a glass of milk. When she had placed them on the bedside table she sat next to him and smiled gently. "I'm glad you're awake. You should eat that while it's still warm." She stood and moved to the closet to pull out extra pillows.

He painfully pulled himself to a sitting position and allowed her to arrange the pillows behind him. He was relieved and somewhat surprised when she didn't comment on how hard it was for him to accomplish such a simple thing.

She arranged another pillow on his lap as a makeshift table and handed him the soup. "Don't worry – I didn't make it." She smiled again and waited while he took a few sips. "Chicken noodle. And pretty good for a can."

She looked around at the things in his room. Michael watched her while he ate. Wondering what she was thinking.

"So, Michael…"

He braced himself and tried to arrange a comforting expression on his features.

"You've been through this kind of thing before?" she asked calmly.

He raised his eyebrows at that. It wasn't at all what he expected from her. He nodded slowly.

She nodded to herself. "Well. Physically, the doctor thinks you're going to be fine. _IF_ you give yourself a chance to heal." He voice was just a tiny bit scolding at that.

He smiled a little, admitting that the scolding was deserved.

"I know you'll be bored, but Sam and Fi are putting together a list of approved activities for you. Sam has been buying every new lock he can get his hands on for you to practice picking, and Fiona is trying to convince me to let her set up some kind of shooting gallery in the backyard!" Maddie rolled her eyes at that. "Said you'd use silencers! Imagine!"

Michael continued to listen, another small smile quirked- he couldn't help it.

Madeline considered her son, rested her hand gently on his leg and asked quietly, "Are you going to be okay, Michael?"

His smile faded as he heard the love and concern in her voice. Suddenly he was glad they had brought him here. "Yeah, Mom, I'm gonna be okay."

She handed him his milk.

oO0Oo  
END  
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Thank-you all for sticking with it to the end. I hope you enjoyed it! Another big thank-you to everyone who reviewed!


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